Bruder Nicht Mehr
by Cera Toynbee
Summary: Post Ateriod M. Due to an anonamous tip, the Brotherhood is taken into custody by Social Services and split up. Now seperated, Lance, Todd, Pietro, and Fred have to deal with foster parents from Hell, being alone, and the scars left upon their souls by ho
1. Gray Skies Above

Now, I've only seen a few of the cartoon episodes, so forgive if the guys are a little out of character. Enjoy.  
____________________________________________  
  
Bruder Nicht Mehr (Brothers No Longer)  
____________________________________________  
  
Chapter One- Gray Skies Above  
____________________________________________  
  
  
It was a cloudy day in Bayville, the sky cold and gray, while the sun shown with all the intensity of a dying candle. A steady drizzle fell from the overcast Heavens, adding to the town's lackluster aura.  
  
Sitting at the kitchen table of a run-down old house located in the shadier side of Bayville, was one Pietro Maximoff. Pietro was leaning back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling fan, sharp eyes following one blade as it spun round. He *had* been doing homework, but halfway through the mental torture, Pietro had realized that the work was pretty much pointless, via the fact that there was only a week of school left. Besides, he had more important thing to do. Like making himself sick by watching the fan.  
  
Off to Pietro's right, Lance Alvers and Todd Tolensky were engaged in a fierce game of Mario Kart. Lance, who usually got brutally whooped, was neck and neck with Todd, the finish line in sight. "Get ready, Mario. I'm gonna rock your sad, little world." He muttered, gripping the controller until his knuckles turned white.  
  
Upon hearing Lance's comment, Pietro groaned loudly in annoyance. "Lance! Would you *please* stop with the stupid rock puns!" he whined. "That didn't even make sense!" Lance, without looking up from the game, sent a small tremor Pietro's way. It was just enough to knock his chair, which was already teetering on two legs, over and sending Pietro sprawling to the floor.  
  
The sudden crash caused Todd to look away from the TV, startled, which caused his little cart to veer off the track, which caused Lance's cart to screech past him...and win.  
  
"YES!"  
  
Lance jumped out of his seat and sprang over the worn sofa. He let out another joyous shout and began to do a victory dance around the room, oblivious to the death glares sent his way by Todd and Pietro. His enthusiastic rejoicing was cut short by an occurrence that happened rarely, if ever.  
  
Someone knocked on the door.  
________________________________________  
  
Lance stopped dead in his tracks and stared. He briefly noticed that Freddy had come out of his room and was joining the other three in staring wary and curious at their front door. Pietro was the first to voice his concerns.   
  
"Lance?Whoisatthedoor?Lance?Doyouknowwhoitis?Doyou?Whywouldsomeonebehere?  
Huh?Lance?Do-"   
  
The annoying string of Pietro-speak was cut short when the knock came again. Lance stared at the door silently debating whether or not he should open it. "What should we do?" he wondered aloud. Todd gave him a hesitant look. "Uh, maybe we should open the door, yo." Lance shook his head sharply, clearing it. "Uh...yeah. Sorry. Stupid moment."  
  
Lance stepped forward and unlocked the door, slowly opening it. A woman in business suit was standing there, with several policemen standing behind her. Lance stared at her for a moment, puzzled. "Uh, can I help you?" The woman gave him a tight smile that didn't reach her eyes.  
  
"I'm Angela Brown of Social Services. You and the others are going to have to come with me."  
_________________________________________  
  
So, you like so far? Suggestions? Comments? Review!  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. One Step Closer to Nothing

  
  
  
Wow, thank you for the reviews! And yes, there is going to be serious Toddage and angst coming up.  
_________________________________  
  
Bruder Nicht Mehr  
_________________________________  
  
Chapter Two- One Step Closer to Nothing  
_________________________________  
  
Lance stared at the woman incredusly. "What? What do you mean?" He could feel the gazes of his friends on his back. He knew very well what the woman meant. He just couldn't believe it was happening. "You need to come with us. Now. If you don't, we will bring you by force." She said.  
  
He turned around and quickly mouthed for them not to use their powers, no matter what. All three nodded. Lance turned back to the harsh woman and sighed, resigned. "All right. Fine."   
  
Lance, Pietro, Todd, and Fred followed the woman out to the patrol cars that were sitting in the yard. Lance and Fred in one, Pietro and Todd in the other. Lance climbed in the car reluctantly; a glance backwards showed two policemen going into their house. As they drove away, one question repeated itself in his mind.  
  
How did they find out?  
__________________________________  
  
Pietro glanced worriedly over at Todd for the tenth time. The younger boy was sitting hunched over, hugging himself tightly, and staring at the floor. Pietro could tell that Todd was completely out of it, totally freaking. Not that he wasn't as well. He could just hide it better.  
  
Pietro was terrified.  
  
When he joined the Brotherhood after living in all those foster homes, Pietro had, for the first time, felt like he belonged somewhere. Like there were people who cared if he came home at night. Cared if he was okay. Lance, Freddy, and Todd weren't just his teammates, they were his family. And now, there was a very good chance that he would lose the security and contentment that he had begun to take for granted.   
  
That he would lose his brothers.  
__________________________________  
  
Charles Xavier broke off the small link he'd established with the Brotherhood from afar and glanced toward Logan and Storm, sighing. "I'm beginning to question the morality of doing this to them."  
  
Logan snorted. "Chuck, you did the right thing. The Brotherhood is now permanently out of commission. " Charles sighed again. "Yes, but I can't help feeling that we should have tried to recruit them, instead of committing them."  
  
Storm placed a comforting hand on Charles shoulder. "Professor, you know as well as I do that those boys would never join us. We have tried to recruit them in the past; look what happened. You made the right call." Charles shook his head sadly. "I hope so."  
  
"I really hope so."  
___________________________________  
  
Ya like? If you do, review. Even if you don't, review. Yes, I'm that attention starved.  



	3. Separating A Family

  
Okay, here's chapter three. Thak for all the wonderful reviews! Lot's of angst in this one. And we finally get to see things from Todd's POV!!!!! Yay!  
  
_____________________________________________  
  
Bruder Nicht Mehr- Separating A Family  
_____________________________________________  
  
  
Lance sighed quietly as he watched Pietro walk back and forth across the room, cursing angrily. The white-haired boy had been pacing and swearing for the past ten minutes, saying words that Lance had never imagined he knew, let alone heard him say. Lance knew how he felt. He wanted nothing more than to scream in anger and bring the building tumbling down around them. This was worse than he could have possibly imagined.  
  
They were going to be put in temporary foster homes while the court and Social Services decided whether or not they could live on their own. They would have to appear at the hearing and the judge would make a decision based on evidence about their capability to live on their own. The worst thing about the foster homes was that they were separate. They were being split up. And if the court decided they were not capable, the homes would be permenent.  
  
Lance looked down over at Todd, who was sitting a few seats away from him. Ever since the woman, Ms. Brown, had told them about the foster homes, Todd had seemed to go into shock. He hadn't moved, spoken, nothing. Just sat there and stared. He appeared to be the most affected, while Fred was the least. Freddy had just been quiet for a moment, then asked if there was anywhere he could get a snack. Lance had been appalled at his lack of caring.  
  
He moved over to the seat next to Todd and put an arm around the younger boy's slim shoulders. Todd didn't move. Lance was starting to get worried. "Todd?" Silence. "Todd." He repeated, shaking his friend slightly. Todd slowly looked up.  
  
Lance was taken aback at the lifelessness in Todd's eyes. The boy was completely out of it. Todd turned his face away again and Lance sighed. He gradually notice the lack of cursing and looked towards Pietro, who was now sitting slouched over in one of the chairs.  
  
The speed demon blew his bangs out of his eyes and glanced over at Lance. "How could they do this to us? How could they know?" Something ignitied in him at the last question and he sprang to his feet, shouting, "Who did this? Who told them?"  
  
"Pietro! Sit down!" Lance hissed, motioning for him to keep it down. Pietro shoulder's slumped and he sat down again. "I'm sorry. I...it's just...I..." Lance nodded. "I know, man. I know."  
  
The door to the adjoining room opened and Ms. Brown came out, along with three others. "Boys, it's time to go. This is Mr. Cast, Mrs. Williams, and Ms. Wing. We will each be taking you to your foster homes. Mr. Alvers, come with me.' Lance stood and began to follow the woman as she walked only to halt immediately at the sound of his name.   
  
He spun around to see Todd now standing and staring at him fearfully. "Lance..." he whispered again, his soft voice sounding tortured and full of panic. Lance bit his lip and started to go to his friend when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. It was Ms. Brown. "Mr. Alvers." She started to pull him along with her. Pietro was being held back in a simaler manner. Fred was nowhere to be seen. Lance saw once of the social workers grab hold of Todd's arm and try to pull him in the opposite direction.   
  
As soon as the man's hand made contact with his arm, it was as if someone had touched a bare wire inside of Todd. He let out a gutteral sound of terror and pulled away from the man, falling to his knees and bending over, clutching his head and shaking. "No, no...no, no, no...Lance...Pietro...no." he choked out, starting to hyperventilate. Lance could only watch, torn apart inside, as the social worker pulled him away. Away from his friends, his brothers.  
  
Away from the only true family he'd ever known.  
_______________________________________  
  
That evening...  
  
Todd sat quietly on the bed of the room they'd given him. He'd been in here ever since that social worker guy, Mr. Cast, had brought him to the house. The foster parents, Mr. And Mrs. Willis, had seemed nice enough, but Todd knew from experience that was just for show. Once the social workers were gone and you began to trust them, that's when the real horror began. Todd had seen it. Been through it. Of course, they probably wouldn't do anything until after the trial. Safer for them that way. Todd shuddered. He didn't want to go through that again. But he ahd no choice.  
  
He had felt so betrayed when he'd pleaded for Lance and Lance hadn't helped him. Knowing that he was once again alone with his horrors had felt like being stabbed through the heart. He'd thought that they were brothers. He'd thought they cared. Know he knew. He knew the truth.  
  
And it was a more lonely truth than he'd ever imagined.  
_______________________________________  
  
Sorry for the lack of Pietro in this particular chapter. There will be lots of him in the next. I probably won't be doing very much (if any) Freddy, so sorry to anyone who cares. This is going to focus on Lance, Pietro, and Todd. (Poor Todd. :( ) And there will be plenty more angst and emotional trauma. Review! (And thanks for all the positive reviews so far!)  



	4. Courtroom Showdown

Okay, here's Chapter 4. Sorry, for the delay. I wanted to make this even a little longer than the others. Mission accomplished, even though it was just a page longer. Well, that and lack of inspiration made this take a little longer than I would have liked. Anyway, here's ch. 4 and plenty of Pietro like I promised.  
  
______________________________________________  
  
Bruder Nicht Mehr- Courtroom Showdown  
______________________________________________  
  
1 week later, County Courthouse   
  
Pietro tugged at his tie, annoyed, as he looked around for Lance and the others. Dismay filled him as he realized that he was probably an hour early. 'Stupid foster family. Punctuality is imperative. Please. I'm not punctual if I'm an hour early!'  
  
Pietro had been cursed with foster parents that were the most conservative people he'd ever known. Dinner at five-thirty *exactly* every night, getting up at 6:00 a.m. every morning, and...it was painful to even think about...he had a *bedtime*. A nine o'clock bedtime. For Christ's sake, he wasn't five! As for having a curfew, he wasn't even allowed out of the house for more than hour. These people didn't even own a TV! Or a computer. They had a typewriter. And he wasn't even allowed to use it. Not to mention the fact that he had to keep his powers under control constantly.  
  
Pietro was going out of his mind.  
  
It wasn't just the stingy older couple either. Pietro really, truly, sincerely missed his friends. He missed Todd's lame jokes, beating Lance at video games. He even missed Freddy eating all the food. Their small, makeshift family was all he'd had. And today would be the day that decided whether he would have it again.  
  
He was shaken from his thoughts as someone tapped on his shoulder. He turned around reluctantly, fully expecting to see the old fashioned couple from Hell. Instead he was confronted with a grinning Lance.  
  
"Lance!" Overcome with joy, Pietro lurched forward to give his friend a clumsy but heartfelt hug. Lance looked surprised for a moment then returned the quick embrace. As he pulled back, Pietro noticed Lance staring at him. "What are you wearing?" Pietro took in Lance's nice but casual jeans and shirt and his cheeks reddened in humiliation. Lance's grin widened as he watched Pietro's embarrassment. "They made you wear a suit? You look like a-"   
  
Pietro was spared from Lance's ridicule when the older boy spotted Todd and stopped making fun of Pietro long enough to call the small boy over. Todd noticed them and slowly made his way across the room. Pietro frowned as he watched his young friend. Something was different about him. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but...  
  
Both he and Lance gave Todd quick hugs, but Pietro noticed he didn't return the embraces and that he was flinching when they touched him. "Todd? You okay?" The smaller boy nodded slightly. "Fine, yo." His voice was flat and lifeless, lacking any emotion at all. Pietro didn't believe him for a second. Any questions that he had, however, were put on hold when the Judge entered the courtroom.  
  
'Here we go.'  
__________________________________  
  
Lance swallowed hard as the lawyer, Mr. Thomas, got ready to question him. This was it. He looked over at his friends. Pietro was watching him steadily, his expression one of silent support, while Todd stared blankly in front of him, his face unreadable. Freddy just looked bored. Lance was growing angrier with Fred by the second. Did he not even care? He hadn't even acknowledged them when they arrived.  
  
"Mr. Alvers." Lance snapped back to reality at the sound of the lawyer's merciless tone. "Mr. Alvers, how old are you?" Lance swallowed uncertainly. "Seventeen, sir." Mr. Thomas nodded slowly. "Seventeen." He repeated. "Tell me, Mr. Alvers. How long have you been living with Mr. Maximoff, Mr. Tolensky, and Mr. Dukes?" Lance thought quickly. "Um...About two years." The lawyer nodded again. "You told Social Services earlier that you did have a guardian, a Ms. Darkholme. What happened to her?" "She disappeared."  
  
Mr. Thomas began pacing in front of Lance, looking thoughtful. He stopped abruptly and started talking again. "Mr. Alvers, when Social Services investigated your home, they were quite appalled at your living conditions. The were many large holes in the roof, none of the lights worked, there was no food in the house, there was no heat, there was evidence of rodent infestation," Lance frowned at that. 'I didn't know we had rats.' "...the list goes on and on." Lance swallowed hard. He could tell by the look on the man's face that he was going to show no mercy.  
  
"Mr. Alvers, you're still in high school, correct?"  
  
"Yes, sir."   
  
"That would mean you could only have an after-school job, therefore only earning minimum wage, correct?"  
  
"Yeah..."  
  
"Does Mr. Maximoff or Mr. Dukes have a job?"  
  
"Um...no..."  
  
"So, you mean to tell me, you and your friends were living on a single income, and that income was the minimum wage salary of one job?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Mr. Thomas raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I'm sorry, but that's just insane. Mr. Alvers, you're seventeen years old. You have one more year of high school left. You are in no way prepared to take care of yourself and three others effectively. Not yet."  
  
Lance felt like he had been punched in the gut. 'No! I can! I know I can! No...we're a family. We can work it out.' Any hope he'd had was slowly unraveling before him. The lawyer was staring coldly at him, a self-assured smirk on his face. He knew he'd won.  
  
Lance watched dully as Mr. Thomas went through the same sort of questioning with Pietro, then Todd. Fred didn't even seem to want them to win. But it didn't matter what the others said. They'd already lost. And it was his fault. He blew it. Because of him, they'd never be a family again. They have to stay in these horrible foster homes. It was fault.  
  
'All my fault.'  
___________________________________________  
  
  
Ya like? REVIEW!!!!!! In the next chapter we'll be finding out exactly what has been going on in those foster homes. Until then.  
  



	5. Behind the Blank Expressions

  
  
  
Well, here's chapter five. I was struck by an overwhelming inspiration to write while reading my reviews. By the way, THANK YOU EVERYONE for the WONDERFUL responses!!!!!! I managed to get in everybody's POV, *including* the X-men's!!!!!!!!!!!!! YAY!!! Anyway, enjoy!  
  
________________________________________  
  
Bruder Nicht Mehr- Behind the Blank Expressions  
________________________________________  
  
Pietro lay quietly on his bed, thinking to himself. He hadn't even bothered to take off the horrible suit. He'd just came straight up to his room, laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. The horror and shock was still fresh in his mind. He just felt numb.  
  
They had lost.  
  
Pietro's breathe hitched in his throat just at the thought. When the judge had announced that they were to stay with the foster families, he'd just wanted to explode. Scream, cry, anything to show the man how much he needed Todd and Lance and Freddy. They were his family. They knew him and understood him ten times more then these people ever would.   
  
He remembered the courtroom clearly. When the decision had been announced, the former Brotherhood had taken it like a stab through the soul. Lance had cried. Pietro had never seen him cry before. And Todd...Todd had looked so afraid. So afraid and alone. Even Fred, who had previously seemed indifferent, had appeared shaken by the news. Their separate foster families had shown up to take them away before they'd even got a chance to say goodbye to one another.  
  
Pietro took a shaky breath as he thought about how different things were going to be. He'd lived with the Brotherhood for two years. It would be three months before he even got to see them again. It was going to be so different after not being away from them for more than a week in the last two years. And the family he was with...he could grow to stand them over time, but he would never be at ease with them like he had Todd, Lance, and Fred.   
  
Pietro sighed as he heard the older woman, Mrs. Parker, call for him, saying dinner was ready. He sat up slowly, then made his way to the door and to the stairs. As he descended the steps, he made a silent promise to himself. 'I swear to God, no matter what it takes, I'll find the person who turned who turned us in.'  
  
'And they will pay.'  
_________________________________________  
  
Fred looked out of his window, sighing. It had been a long day. He thought back to the courthouse, remembering the hurt and puzzled looks Lance and the others had been giving him as they witnessed his indifference. Actually, he did miss them a little, but truthfully, it didn't really matter to him where he stayed and with whom. Being part of that family had been nice, but it didn't really sadden him if he had to go somewhere else. He didn't need Pietro, Todd, and Lance like they needed each other. Fred sighed.  
  
'Oh, well. I'd rather feel nothing than feel what they're feeling.'  
___________________________________________________  
  
Todd picked at the food on his plate, moving it around with his fork, glancing nervously from time to time at Mr. and Mrs. Willis. Neither one had spoken to him since Mrs. Willis told him it was time to eat. For that he was glad. He didn't want to say the wrong thing unknowingly and set one of them off.  
  
Todd's thoughts drifted to his friends. Pietro had kept giving him concerned looks all throughout the hearing. And Lance...it was all so confusing. First they ignored him when he really needed them, then they acted as if they cared about him. Todd didn't know what to think.  
  
Todd was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't hear Mr. Willis tell him repeatedly not to mess with his food. Therefore he nearly fell out of his seat, startled, when Mr. Willis suddenly shouted out his name. In his hurry to catch himself, he knocked Mrs. Willis's glass of wine off the table and onto the white carpet. Mrs. Willis let out a shriek of horror and grabbed his arm, pulling him out of his seat and pushing him forcefully away from her. "You little freak!" she screeched, " Look what you did!"  
  
Todd started to back away from Mrs. Willis, who was totally freaking out, but before he knew what was happening, he found himself sprawled on the floor, clutching his face in pain. Mr. Willis stood over him, glaring. Mr. Willis swiftly kicked Todd as hard as he could in the ribs. The small boy yelped in pain and tried to crawl away from the terrifying presence above him.  
  
Mr. Willis saw his escape attempt and, infuriated, grabbed him by the throat and threw him back into the wall. Todd head snapped back and hit the plaster, making stars explode behind his eyes. As each blow landed, Todd drew further into himself, detaching himself from his body, trying to ignore the intense agony his foster parent was dealing his thin body. As his world faded into darkness, one slightly delirious thought crossed his mind.  
  
'Wonder if they'll beat me for bleeding on the carpet.'  
____________________________________________________  
  
Lance banged angrily on the bedroom door for the fifth time. He finished off the pounding with a fierce kick to the thick wood. The 13-year old behind him glared, annoyed. "Give it up, mutie. They're not going to let us out. Get it through your thick skull." Lance gritted his teeth in frustration and rested his forehead against the wall. " Stop calling me that."  
  
Derek smirked. "Why? That's what you are." Lance turned and glared at him. "That. Is. Not. The. Point." Derek rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Anyway, stop. They're not going to let us out and Terri and Matt are trying to sleep. " Lance turned his gaze to the two six-year olds sleeping on the floor and nodded, resigned, as he sat down on the bed next to Derek. "Sorry. This just really ticks me off.'  
  
Lance's foster parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, were so good at acting it was amazing. As soon as, the Social Worker disappeared, so did the sweet, clean-cut couple. In their place were two alcoholics who constantly screamed and fought, and locked their four foster children in a tiny upstairs bedroom with only one bed. Lance and the others had been locked in the room ever since they'd returned from the courthouse that afternoon. It was now almost eleven o' clock and Lance was starving. He hadn't eaten in almost three days. They were almost never allowed out of the small room.  
  
As far as the other kids went, they were okay. If he'd didn't dwell on how Derek continually called him 'mutie' after he'd shaken the house in frustration the first time he'd been locked in here. (Lance had a feeling the kid didn't say it to be cruel, just to get a rise out of him. Thirteen year olds were annoying like that.) Or how Terri never talked unless she was directly spoken to, and Matt never shut up. He would just sit there and go on and on and on about nothing whatsoever. Lance sighed, exhausted.   
  
He laid down on the floor and quietly waited for sleep to bring him solace from this depressing reality.  
_________________________________________  
  
Rogue stared at the Professor, her jaw hanging open in shock. She snapped it shut, fuming, as she processed what he'd just told them. Finally, she voiced her thoughts.   
  
"YOU DID WHAT?"  
  
The others stared at her surprised, while the Professor looked startled and a little alarmed. " I-" "Ah know what ya said." Rogue interrupted, furious. "That was rhetorical. How could ya do that to them? You have NO idea what those foster homes are like! Ah mean, the Brotherhood wasn't a threat anymore. They said themselves, they didn't even believe in the whole 'world domination' thing. They just did that because it got them a place to live, got them out of the foster homes. And the first thing ya'll do is to put them back there." At this point, Rogue turned to her fellow X-men. " And how can ya'll stand there and agree with them? Oh yeah, Ah forgot, ya'll never been a foster home before have ya? Well, can you imagine it? Imagine having this cozy little family of ya'lls split up? Well, maybe ya should think about it, because you just destroyed the best thing those guys ever had and ya'll don't seem to care. If ya'll can't manage some kind of remorse, well, than ya'll 're just sick."  
  
That being said, Rogue turned on her heel and stomped out of the room, leaving her gaping teammates and one astonished Professor behind.  
________________________________________   
  
Whoo! That took me, like, four hours!!! So be happy!!!! And I don't mean to torture you guys, I just have a hard time with inspiration and when I DO get it, it comes in small doses. Therefore, small chapters. But I'm trying!!!!! And also, the reason I making Freddy kind of a bad dude is: 1. I don't know what else to do with the guy. 2. He doesn't exactly strike as a kind of guy who would have a breakdown like the other three kind of do. 3. I know, like, nill about this dude's personality. (If he even has one.) Also, I really didn't want to write in any of the x-men but Rogue's speech kinda jumped me. Anyway, I'll shut up now and let those of you who read these move on. See you in chapter 6!!!!!! REVIEW!!!!  
  
  



	6. Memory Lane, Part 1

  
  
Disclaimer: (I just noticed I didn't have one of these in the fic.) Todd, Lance, Pietro, Fred, Rogue, Professor X, Storm, and Logan, not mine. Everybody else, MINE!!!! (*rolls eyes* Not that anyone would want them.)  
  
A/N - *spotlight shines on a single figure standing at a microphone* Um, hello everyone. *gives a nervous little wave* As you might of noticed, I kind of disappeared for a while. Two months, in fact. *grins sheepishly* It's NOT my fault. *mutters about stupid, crappy internet services that decide to no longer service your area* But it's all good now!!!!!!  
  
Anyway.  
  
While writing the Ch. 6 that actually had something to do with the plot line, I suddenly became inexplicably, uncontrollably FURIOUS with Prof. X and I wanted to make him PAY for what he did!!! Therefore, this chapter was born.  
  
Other factors were vital in the conception of this ch.6. One was a line in a review by blackskye. Xavier's a TELEPATH he should be able to SEE what his cowardice spawned. And ya know what? YOU'RE ABSOLUTLY CORRECT!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
The second factor was that I noticed in the summary of Bruder Nicht Mehr, I said, and I quote, " the scars left upon their souls by horrifying pasts." SOOOOOOOOO, I have to show their horrifying pasts. Right? RIGHT?  
  
Okay, that said, LET THE ANGSTY TORTURE-XAVIER-BY-MAKING-HIM-SO-GUILTY-HE WANTS-TO-KNEEL-OVER-AND-DIE FEST BEGIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
^ These thingies signify a memory ^  
  
______________________________________________  
  
Bruder Nicht Mehr- Memory Lane, Part 1  
______________________________________________  
  
That evening...  
  
Professor Xavier sat at his desk, lost in thought. After Rogue's outburst that afternoon, he'd retreated to his study, mulling over her words. She had been obviously appalled at his course of action and to be truthful, Xavier was really beginning to regret what he'd done. Although he did feel as if Rogue had been slightly exaggerating how abhorrent foster homes were. But then again, he wouldn't know. Like she'd pointed out, Charles had never been in one. Neither had the rest of the x-men. Charles sighed. He needed to find out the truth. And only knew one way to do so. He didn't want to do it; invading people's privacy like that was something he always felt guilty for. But it was the only way to find out the truth about the former members of the Brotherhood.  
  
Xavier concentrated and slowly reached out, sensing and focusing on each of the four at once. He entered their minds slowly, gently, so to remain discreet and not alert them to his presence. Avalanche, Blob, Toad, and Quicksilver. Lance, Fred, Todd, and Pietro.  
  
Xavier slipped farther in, taking notice of each boy's emotions. He could feel the overwhelming fear and desolation coming from the small one, Todd. The anger and frustration from Lance, Pietro's depression and growing hate for everyone and everything. The way Fred tried to remain indifferent, but was unable to suppress the loneliness that was growing inside. Charles formed a separate link to each of the boy's minds, making it slightly easier to process the thick emotions and jumbled images. That done, he opened the first link and submerged himself in the thoughts and memories of the young man known as Lance Alvers.  
  
At first all he could see was red. A bloody haze of anger tinted Lance's memories, obscuring them. Xavier made his way through the scarlet fog until he came upon one of the clearer images. He cleared away some of the red mist surrounding the memory, much the same as you would blow dust from an old book. Before him the memory came in to focus, allowing Charles to see what it was. It was the day Lance's powers emerged.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Cincinnati, Ohio  
Three years ago...  
  
The crystal vase flew through the air, narrowly missing Mr. Alvers and smashed against the wall. It was thrown by his sobbing wife who was in the process of screaming her hurt and betrayal at him. " I hate you! Do you hear me? I HATE you. How could you, John? How COULD you! After all I've done for you, all I've given up for you and your dream! How do you repay me? You have an affair with that tramp secretary of yours! After all I've done for you! I hate you!" A moment later, a lamp met the same fate as the vase.  
  
Lance Alvers watched the scene from his bedroom doorway, cringing as his father started to shout back at his mother, saying that she was the one who drove him to it. His mom responded with a long line of obscenities and another crash was heard. Then Lance heard the words he'd come to fear over the past few years. The words he dreaded hearing every time his parents fought.  
  
"That's it, John! I'm leaving you! I never want to see your cheating face again!" Lance shut his eyes as tight as he could, trying to remain calm. He couldn't take much more of this. He opened his eyes again just it time to see his mother slap his father. This triggered another onslaught of accusations and curses. Suddenly, an intense anger and hate arose inside of Lance. He was sick of this. Sick of the fighting and the yelling. Sick of cleaning up the broken glass that always littered the floor after their fights. Sick of having to listen to each of his parents complain about the other to him. All he wanted was for it to stop. Now.  
  
"STOP IT!" he screamed. He was ignored. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Lance's fury grew to the point where he could no longer see. Lance screamed in agony as a sudden, white-hot spurt pain erupted behind his eyes. He clutched his head in his hands, eyes shut tight, wishing for the blinding headache to subside. Lance was so focused on trying to make the pain stop that he didn't notice as the ground began to shake. His parents' argument ceased as they tried to remain standing on the quaking floor. As Lance's headache intensified, so did the shaking. Lance's mother shrieked as the cupboards flew open and dishes spilled out, shattering on the linoleum. Pictures fell from the wall and smashed on the bare floor, slivers of glass skittering across wooden planks.  
  
Lance was surrounded by the sounds of shattering glass and his mother's cries. He could smell the sickly sweet scent of his mom's spilled perfume and his father's musky aftershave. Another round of pain sent him to his knees, shaking. He felt the pieces of glass cut through his jeans and into his knees. The new pain in his legs diverted his attention from the throbbing agony in his head. Mind slightly cleared, Lance cautiously opened his eyes, only to witness utter chaos around him. A low groan and cracking noise sent his dazed attention to the floor, watching with a detached sense of dread as it began to split in half. As darkness began to creep into his blurred vision, Lance, suddenly tired, collapsed face first on the cracked floor, heedless of the broken glass cutting into his skin.  
  
The last thing he heard before he blacked out was his mother's agonized screams.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Xavier watched the horrible memory with a growing sympathy for the young man. The apartment building that Lance had lived in had collapsed. Out of one hundred and fifty two people, five survived, Lance among them. The tragic event was reported to be caused by a freak earthquake, which was, in a sense, true, but Lance knew something they didn't. He knew he'd caused it.  
  
The emergence of his powers had caused his parents' death.   
  
Turning away form the pain-filled memory, Charles sifted through Lance's other remembrances, most of them unclear and brief, like faded snapshots. He saw the drastic changes Lance went through as he moved from foster family to foster family. How he retreated inside himself, building up walls around his heart and soul. How he'd suppressed every emotion except anger and hate, only spoke when it was to make a snide remark or cruel taunt. He'd thought that, by causing others pain and alienating himself from his emotions, he'd be free of having to deal with anything besides the constant anger he'd come to know. And in a sense it worked. Lance cared for no one and no one cared for him. His heart turned to stone. He became cold, unforgiving. Untouchable.  
  
Then, something changed.  
  
As Charles approached Lance's more recent memories, he was surprised to notice a lack of red. These images were clearer and had a more content aura surrounding them. Getting closer to one of the memories, Charles reached out and touched the image, causing it to play for him.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Bayville, New York  
1:45 a.m.  
Six months ago...  
  
Lance stumbled down the stairs, trying not fall in the darkness. He woken up in the middle of the night and, after an hour of unsuccessfully trying fall back asleep, decided to come down and get a glass of water. As he reached the bottom of the steps, Lance saw the flickering lights of the TV coming from the living room. He crept into the room silently, curious to see who else was up besides him. "Todd?"  
  
The smaller boy jumped at the sudden voice and glared at Lance. "Don't do that!" Lance grinned and sat down on the couch next to him. "What are you watching?" he asked. Todd sighed and gestured to the TV screen. "I couldn't sleep either, yo. So, I came downstairs and turned on the news and... and they were doing this 'special report'. Listen." Todd reached over and turned up the volume slightly, allowing Lance to hear the end of the news report.  
  
* -was reported that the majority of the Senate strongly feels that the mutant phenomena has grown to the point where toleration of any kind is out of the question. Senator Joseph Westing of Texas was heard to say that the Senate, and the American public are finally realizing the threat that mutants pose to the human race. And that mankind needs to take up the responsibility of preserving our race and vote for mutant registration. More on that tomorrow. See you then and remember, 'Fox News is news that you can count on.' Good ni-*  
  
Lance grabbed the remote and muted the television, cutting of the suddenly warm and friendly voice of the female news reporter. After a moment, he glanced at Todd, whose pale face was eerily illuminated by the screen's flashing lights and colors. "Todd? You okay?" Todd nodded, not looking at him, but Lance knew he was lying. These kinds of reports had been appearing more and more since the Mutant Registration bill had been brought up. He was beginning to hear of mutants suddenly disappearing and mass slaughtering of mutants in other countries. Lance had seen the many surveys asking the American public what should be done about mutants. 85% had said mutants should be exterminated. To be truthful, it scared the hell out of him.  
  
Lance shook his head sadly. He reached over and laid a hand on Todd's shoulder, noticing he was shaking. "Todd?" The younger mutant slowly turned to look at him and Lance could see the fear in his eyes. "I just...what if they find out we're mutants? What if those 'Friends of Humanity' people find out about us? They'd probably kill us, yo. I mean, Mystique and Magneto would...I don't know. It's so stupid. We never did anything to them, yo. Why don't they just leave us alone?" Lance sighed. "I don't know why, man. But I do know they're never gonna get us. We won't let 'em." Todd nodded, looking a little relieved. Lance squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then dropped his hand.   
  
Lance broke the silence a moment later. "What else is on?" Todd glanced over at him and shrugged. " I dunno." Lance clicked through the few channels they had until he landed on the opening credits of the early 1930's comedy 'A Day at the Races', starring the Marx Brothers. "This okay?" he asked. Todd nodded and they both settled back to watch the witty dialogue and clever antics of Groucho, Chico, and Harpo, fears temporarily put aside. Soon, both boys were asleep.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Lance's fellow teammates had, unknowingly, saved him from himself. They had, just by being there, slowly, gradually, disintegrated the tight shield Lance had kept around himself since his powers appeared, allowing him to feel again. After a while, it seemed as if they were no longer the Brotherhood, mutants fighting to take over the world, but instead four teenage guys that had become one another's only family.  
  
Lance was presently sleeping and mental shields blocked Charles from Lance's most recent recollections. Slightly disappointed, Charles looked at a few more of the memories, then slowly pulled out of the rock-tumbler's mind, briefly wondering why recent occurrences were blocked off but past ones were not. Guilt, like a black, cold liquid, began to seep through him as he broke off the link, but he pushed his feelings aside for the moment and focused on the next young man.  
  
Taking the mental equivalent of a deep breath, Charles slipped into the mind of the speed-demon known as Pietro Maximoff.  
  
The difference between Lance's mind and Pietro's was drastic. There was no angry red haze blanketing everything. No scattered images, barely remembered. Pietro's memories were ordered and clear, streamlined and in focus. He either recalled things completely or not at all. Rarely did Charles encounter such an uncluttered mind. In fact, the *only* time he'd seen memories so strongly preserved was in the mind of Eric Lensherr. Charles wondered briefly at that, then pushed his thoughts away and concentrated on the images before him.  
  
Suddenly, one began to play.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
New York City, New York  
Three years ago...  
  
Pietro Maximoff ran through the living room, grabbing his basketball on his way. He opened the front door and hesitated, turning and shouting, "Mom! I'm going out to play basketball for a while, 'kay?" He waited for a reply impatiently. "Mom?"  
  
He closed the door and jogged into the kitchen. Pietro saw his Mom sitting at the table with his Dad, looking nervous and like she was about to cry. "Mom? What's wrong? What...?" Pietro's dad gestured one of the chairs. "Pietro...sit down. We need to talk to you. It's important."  
  
Pietro sat down warily, looking back and forth to each of his parents. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like this. "What is it?" His Mom took a shaky breath and turned her sad gaze on him. "T-there's no easy way to say this..." she stammered, looking back down at her hands. "Pietro, your father and I...We think you should know..." she broke off suddenly, crying. Mr. Maximoff rested a hand on his wife's hand and sighed.  
  
"Pietro...you were adopted."  
  
Pietro jerked back as if he'd been slapped. " I...what? You mean...you mean you're not my parents?" They nodded slowly. Pietro stared at them, deathly pale. "How could you...why did you wait until now to tell me?" His mother, no not his mother, looked at him pleadingly. "Pietro, we never would have told you if we didn't have to. But we had to tell you. We had to warn you about- " she was cut off as Pietro's chair scraped back across the floor. He stood quickly and started to back away from the table, shaking his head. "No. I don't want to hear it. I..." his voice cracked, "I just need to get out of here." With those words he turned and ran, dropping his basketball to the floor and ignoring the shouts of the two people he'd once known as mother and father.  
  
As Pietro flew through the front door and out into the streets, he tried to remain focused on nothing but running. He channeled all his hurt and betrayal and sadness into his will to run faster, to get as far away from his house as he could.   
  
He heard shouting behind him, but he ignored it; kept on running. Hurt and pain coursed through his veins, followed by confusion and doubt. A small voice in his head hissed that he was being stupid, illogical, that he should go back. He promptly told the voice to shove it; they didn't care about him. They didn't even have the guts to tell him till now.   
  
They thought you'd take it hard and bad, the voice shot back. And, surprise, surprise, you did. Pietro shook his head trying to clear it. 'Okay, let's just say they do love me. My REAL family obviously didn't. I don't even know who they are. Why didn't they want me?' At the last thought, Pietro speed up, trying to out-run his pain and confusion. If he could just run fast enough, he could leave it all behind.  
  
And suddenly, something snapped.  
  
It was as if a gate had been opened to him, allowing a flood of incredible energy to flow through him, into his veins. Like hundreds of great weights that had been on him his whole life were suddenly lifted, causing him to fly. He felt on fire, like he couldn't stop running, or even moving, if he tried. His surroundings became a blur, a smear of color and light, no longer recognizable. He'd never felt anything like this before.  
  
Thoughts, memories, emotions, song lyrics, ideas, epiphanies, commercial jingles all sped through Pietro's mind on fast-forward. The little voice in his head became tinny, like a chipmunk, and starting babbling about finding a logical explanation for why Pietro was moving faster than a jet plane that was flying a Mach 3 and being piloted by a madman on Speed.  
  
Part of him began to panic. At the moment, he felt there was no way his body would even consider slowing down; something just kept screaming for him to go faster. The other part wanted to speed up, loving the thrill and exhilaration. But he knew he had to stop. He promised himself that once he stopped and figured out what had happened, then he could run as fast as he wanted, for as long as he wanted. That done, he started to lay on the brakes.   
  
Instead of focusing on going fast, he concentrated on slowing down. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally stopped. Even then he began to bounce up and down, hopping from foot to foot, unable to stop moving even for a second. He looked around him, feeling the panic grow as he realized he was, at the moment, standing on the side of a completely unfamiliar highway. He noticed a road sign several dozen yards away and squinted at it, hoping for a clue to where in New York he might be. Pietro's jaw dropped in shock as he read the signs bold, white lettering.  
  
Welcome to Philadelphia.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Charles shook his head as the memory faded out. In a sense, the emergence of Pietro's powers hadn't been too traumatic. It had been frightening for the young man in the same way it was frightening when you rode a roller coaster for the first time. Terrifying, but thrilling. But the events that had followed had been truly horrific.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Pietro had hitchhiked his way home, intent on going back to his 'parents' and talking to them, telling them about what had happened. Telling them that he didn't want to lose them even if they weren't his real parents, and finding *who* his real parents were. Why they'd given him up. And finding out what they needed to warn him about.  
  
When Pietro arrived, he quickly walked into his house. It was eerily silent. Pietro made his way around the house and came to an abrupt halt when he saw something that made his blood run cold. A trail of blood was smeared across the floor's wooden planks, leading down the hall, around the corner and into the living room. Pietro sped into the living room, heart hammering in his chest. When he saw what was there, he fought not to throw up.   
  
His 'parents' were lying sprawled on the living room floor, their throats slit. The room was in a shambles around him, furniture smashed, blood staining the floor like some sick, gory painting. Horrified, Pietro fell to his knees beside the two people he loved most in the world, staring at their cold, stiff bodies in shock. 'Who could have done this? And why?' At that thought, the overwhelming guilt, sadness, and disgust he felt was temporarily replaced by an intense anger. Unable to look at the destruction and carnage any longer, Pietro stood and whirled around, intent on leaving and finding the sick psychos who'd done this...and making them pay.  
  
He came face to chest with a tall, white-haired man.   
  
"Hello, Pietro."   
  
Pietro quickly stepped back from the man, asking, "Who are you? How do you know my name?" Instead of answering Pietro's questions, the strange man gestured to the still bodies. "That is the work of prejudice. Of intolerance. Humans that believe anything different is beneath them and should be eliminated." Pietro shook his head, confused. "What are you talking about?"   
  
"You're a mutant, Pietro. As am I. Others saw you this morning who are violently intolerant towards our kind. The couldn't catch you, so they came to take care of your adoptive parents, believing they were mutants as well." Pietro stood in shock for a few moments, then slowly fell to his knees, face deathly pale, whispering a mantra of "Oh my God, oh my God..." and "It's my fault." The white-haired man gazed down at his shaking frame for a moment, then turned to leave, murmuring over his shoulder, "I will return for you when you're ready, Pietro. Until then."  
  
"Until then."  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Charles felt sick as he realized what Magneto had done. To insure Pietro's hatred towards humankind, Magneto had killed the boy's parents, then told him normal people had committed the act, tricking him, swaying him towards his path a year before he'd even invited the young man to join him. And Pietro had never realized it.  
  
Xavier, shocked and disgusted by his old friend, moved on to another memory.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Bayville, New York  
6:00 a.m.  
One year ago...  
  
  
Pietro lay sprawled on the kitchen floor, head lolling to the side, eyes unfocused and staring at nothing. 'Whoever decided school should start this early in the morning should die. Slowly. On second thought, whoever invented school in the first place should die. Then again, they were probably the same guy. ' Pietro snorted and quickly decided it was too early to be philosophical. He'd never felt this tired in his life. Lack of energy was never really a problem for the speed-demon. This morning, however, it was.   
  
He watched as a half-awake Todd stumbled into the room, rubbing at his eyes. Not seeing Pietro, Todd kept on walking and wound up tripping over the young man's legs, falling in a heap to the floor. Once down, he didn't move.  
  
"Todd?" Pietro asked, his voice thick with exhaustion. "You dead?" "Yeah..." came the slurred reply. Pietro returned his dazed attention towards the doorway, waiting for the house other two residents to show up. A series of loud thumps and a muffled groan announced Lance's arrival downstairs. Pietro grinned faintly. Served Lance right for last night. The dark-haired boys shuffled into the kitchen, limping slightly, stepped over Pietro, fell into a chair, and collapsed face first on the table, muttering about the 'stupid stairs' and 'stupid mornings' and...'stupidness' in general.  
  
Pietro rolled his eyes at his friends complaining and turned back to the doorway. A few moments later, Fred entered the kitchen, looking well rested and chipper, and whistling. Pietro lifted his head just enough to effectively stare at Fred, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "Oh. My. God."   
  
Fred glanced down at Pietro, the confusion obvious on his face. "Why are you on the floor?" he asked, his voice laced with puzzlement. "Why are you acting...", he couldn't bring himself to speak any of the horrible words that crossed his mind,"...like...you are?" Pietro asked back. Fred shook his head and sat down in the chair across from Lance. "I slept really well last. The best I've slept in years. Now, why are you on the floor?"   
  
Pietro stared at Fred incredously for a moment, then propped himself up on his elbows, deciding he might as well just answer the guy. "Because Freddy," he drawled. "Some of us didn't get a goodnight's sleep. Some of us were kept up ALL NIGHT because SOMEONE's alarm went off at TWO IN THE MORNING and would NOT SHUT UP." He glared pointedly at Lance. "Not my fault." He heard him mumble. Pietro shook his head. 'Whatever.' He thought, collapsing back onto the linoleum. A few moments later, Fred spoke up. "If you guys are so tired, maybe you should just skip today and sleep."  
  
Lance thrust a finger lazily into the air. "Excellent idea." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his arm fell to the table with a thump and he was instantly asleep. Pietro let out a short, hysterical giggle at the sight. 'And I thought *I* was tired.' He watched Freddy stare at him strangely, then shake his head, stand, grab Lance's keys and leave.  
  
A few moments later, Pietro pulled himself to his feet, grumbling softly. His little conversation with Fred had cost him his half-awake state. He stared at Lance, then Todd, who was lying in a state of blissful unconsciousness on the floor. He eyed their positions for a moment, thinking. 'That can't be comfortable.' Sighing, he shuffled over to Todd, picked the small boy up with relative ease and carried him into the living room and sat him on the recliner. Then gathering up his energy, he returned for Lance. As he lifted the tall boy's limp body, he let out an 'oomph!'. 'God Lance. You're HEAVY!'   
  
He struggled to carry his friend to the couch and dropped him unceremoniously on the cushions when he reached it. He collapsed next to Lance, suddenly tired. Casting a half-lidded gaze over their strangely peaceful bodies, Pietro grinned faintly. "You guys are lucky I care." He said to the silence.  
  
Suddenly, the smile vanished.  
  
Pietro's eyes widened as he realized what he'd just said. The words replayed themselves over and over in his mind as his panic and astonishment grew. 'Oh God...I care. When did this happen? This wasn't supposed to happen.' Pietro's eyes darted to his sleeping friends.'I care.' He took a deep breath then let it out slowly. Pietro bit his lip, thinking. 'Maybe...it won't be like last time. Maybe it's okay to care.' Satisfied for now, but doubt still lingering in the back of his mind, Pietro closed his eyes and whispered, "Night guys."  
  
With those words, he was asleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The guilt was deeper now.  
  
Charles had never felt so horrible in his life. And he knew this was just the beginning.  
  
The other two minds still awaited.  
_____________________________________  
  
To be continued...  
______________________________________  
  
  
So, that's the first part. Todd and Fred's pasts'll come in the next part (and I swear this one won't take as long) and *then* I'm gonna finish this thing!!!! I SWEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
So, what'd ya think? REVIEW!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
P.S. Anyone have any suggestions or ideas for Fred's past?  
  
P.P.S. Aren't you all so proud of me? This was 11 pages!!!!!!!! That's the longest chapter I've EVER written. Christ it was hard!!!!!  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
